


Pieces

by Catticus42



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Are we suprised. Not really., F/M, Helen wanting to shoot Nikola, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Mystery, Rediscovering the past, Romance, Teslen - Freeform, Teslen Banter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catticus42/pseuds/Catticus42
Summary: "Who am I?"Handcuffed, disorientated, Her memories, supressed, save for a name. Her name. Helen, finds herself in more trouble than she thought was possible for one individual to get into. Luckily, she bumps into someone who happens to specialise in that field.A deadly new Acquaintance. Or an even deadlier old, friend?Either way, He seems to have answers to the questions she is asking.He is arrogant and obnoxious.... He knows her secrets and holds darker secrets of his own.But try as she might She can't deny the pull between them and while she has forgotten, him. Nikola certainly hasn't forgotten her.





	1. Kept In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!. I know this isn't the fluffy happy one i promised but it will have those kind of moments in it. This chapter focuses on Helen, but don't worry Tesla shall arrive very shortly :)   
> Anyway i hope you enjoy....   
> Please leave a comment. I love to hear what you think :)

“Stage one is complete. Be ready to prepare her for stage two….”

Her eyes fluttered open, welcomed by darkness. 

It surrounded her. Encased her. 

Thick and morbid, it filled her senses, making it hard to breathe. 

Hard to think. 

Her mind felt heavy, her movements matching its sluggish rhythm as she tried to push herself up. 

Cold iron bit into her wrists, its sharp bite snapping her from the daze. 

Handcuffs? She touched the icy metal restraints. Panic rose in her chest, clawing its way into her heart. 

Bloody Hell, where am I?! She thought, sitting up, trying to remember anything that could have led her into this predicament, but her mind offered her as much clarity as the darkened room. 

Memories were like sand in an hourglass, it spiralled, circling the void. Drawn towards the danger of oblivion. 

Even her name seemed distant. 

But she held fast. 

Each letter, her lifeline. Her only salvation from completely slipping away. 

Helen, She thought. 

“My name is Helen…. Helen Magnus.” Familiarity flickered as she spoke the words. It must be hers.  
It had to be hers. 

She had nothing else… 

Questions churned inside, demanding to be answered. 

Why was she here? Reality gnawed at her.

What did they want with her? Paranoia entertained her fear. 

Who….. Helen swallowed down tears at the last, one. 

Who was she?

“Who am I?” She called out softly, but only the darkness heard.

Only silence answered. 

Only shadows watched as hot tears began to fall. Frustrated, she wiped them away. 

She wanted to cry, she wanted to drown in the emotion, let it seep into the very fibre of her soul and chase away the emptiness that threatened to consume her. 

But tears didn’t hold the answers she sought. It just reminded her of what was missing.   
Suddenly, searing pain, erupted into her head.

“You can offer us so much. You think you can keep them in the dark forever...” The words echoed in her ears. She gritted her teeth against the pain as she followed the voice. 

An image of an office desk appeared, a fake cactus perched on the end and a name in gold, flashed through her mind. Someone was there… Someone important, and they had spoken those words…. She searched for them.

What did they mean, offer them so much? And keep who in the dark? The image began to blur, the words faint wisps that danced away from her. 

Then both disappeared; words and images, like ghosts, slipped further away, taking the pain along with it. Body shivering, her hands trembled. 

Pain. It made for a good incentive to stay ignorant, to stay huddled in her cold dusty prison.  
But whoever did this to her… she clawed the ground as nauseousness took hold, bile bitter on her lips as she spat it out. 

They didn’t understand, that this ignorance was a pain; a hell all of its own. Closing her eyes until her stomach settled, she wiped the corner of her mouth. 

Helen However, had two very different things in mind. 

Escape. 

Answers. 

Both were far more compelling than the alternative.

Shaking her head in an attempt to clear the fog, she collected her thoughts, mentally listing her assets. 

While she might not be able to see her surroundings, her other senses were still otherwise intact. That and she was relatively uninjured as far as she could tell. 

A good sign. So they wanted her unharmed. At least for the time being.

But she didn’t dwell on that ‘comforting thought’ for too long. 

Handcuffs….More of a liability if anything. Her clothes from what she could feel of them, consisted of a simple blouse, cotton jacket and slacks. Functional but not particularly useful, when one wanted to escape.

High heels. Really? 

She rolled her eyes and moved her foot gently, feeling the edge of the stiletto scrape against the floor.   
Although, she reasoned, the point could come in handy. 

Pockets: empty. 

Not that she expected much. Her captors would have to be very stupid, indeed, to leave her with something like a cell phone or a pocket knife. What she would give for either of those things at this moment…

Then her hand caught on something smooth around the waist of her pants. Leather? A Belt.   
Excitement filled her as she felt the metal edge of the buckle. 

Now that was certainly something she could work with. Alright that brought her assets up to at least three. 

Four, if she included her wits. But she wasn’t very trusting of them at this very moment.   
Helen slowly lifted herself off the floor and felt around the room. There had to be a wall here somewhere. 

Gasping, she bumped into the corner of what she felt was a chair. Worn plastic frame.  
Not even a bolt she could possibly pry lose. She sighed. 

Dark room. No windows. Wrists bound. Drugged, presumably, as her head was still a bit hazy.  
They really were not pulling any risks now, were they?

It’s a wonder they didn’t chain me to a wall. She thought dryly. 

Her hand scraped across plaster. A smile touched her lips. 

At last, progress. 

Her fingers trailed eagerly across its flaky surface, noting each corner and every dip or bump in the wall. Hoping to find a light switch, or something remotely useful. Like a door. 

Surely, this room couldn’t be completely sealed. Someone got her in here after all. 

Besides; the plaster was old and crumbling in places, the floor was gritty. Wherever she was, it wasn’t new. 

Hopefully their security in terms of locks was just as old. 

Wait what she was thinking? Even if she found the door, what was she going to do? Pick it open?   
Did she even know how to pick a lock? 

With a belt buckle in the dark no less…. 

“God, you are way out of your depth.” She breathed to herself, biting her lip. 

The sudden sound of footsteps echoed outside. A rough, male laugh grated as unpleasantly, as the man’s voice. 

His shoes scraping against the floor. A rattling sound jingled, like keys. He was getting closer.   
Helen pressed herself further into what she felt was the corner of the wall. Her heart hammering hard in her chest.

“So the boss is prepping her for stage two, Hey Doc?” The unpleasantly voiced one said. 

“Seems so Owen. See that she arrives with no hassles. If she is awake, knock her out.” A dry voice answered, a note of contempt lingering in his tone. 

Prepping her for what? Knock her out? Helen didn’t like the sound of either of those things.   
“Feisty one, is she?” Owen called, and she could hear the feral grin in his voice. 

“She took out seven guards on her way here; don’t take any chances...” 

She strained to hear the rest and could only make out half sentences that, by themselves, made no sense. 

“Alright, Alright, Whatever you say.” Owen answered testily, as the other man’s footsteps retreated.  
The key made a rattling sound as he inserted it into the door. 

She could hear the automated beep of a security card, swiping through a slightly more advanced lock.   
So, if picking said lock wasn’t out before, it sure is now, she thought dryly. 

Helen had nowhere to hide, the shadows that covered her couldn’t shield her for too much longer. She was running out of options and fast. 

The door creaked opened. Cold light spilled into the room, hunting her, seeking her out, like a hound that scented its prey. 

Its harshness spilled through onto the floor, allowing Helen to finally see the confines of her small prison and what appeared to be her jailer. 

He was tall, solidly built, with dirty blonde hair and menacing eyes that were set on her.   
She needed to get out of here, now. But the guard was between her and the door. Between her and freedom. 

Fight. She couldn’t even remember anything past her name for god’s sake let alone how to fight him. From his build alone, he could easily overpower her.

She would just have to play along…

Helen didn’t blink nor did she resist as he took her by the handcuffs and dragged her. One more step and they were out of the door way. One more step and she could possibly….Well she would cross that bridge once she came to it. 

Without warning, Owen grabbed her. His face twisted into a sick smile as she struggled against him. But He just laughed and pulled her roughly towards him, a syringe in hand. 

He was going to sedate her. 

“Time to say goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, her back was pressed against him. One hand slipped from her arm to her waist, his bruising hold halted her from moving as the syringe came closer to her neck.

She should have been scared, but all she felt was anger. Red hot and unforgiving.   
Her eyes narrowed and something inside her snapped. 

In an instant, she elbowed him hard in the solar plexus, winding him enough to force him to let go of her, and hooked her handcuffs around his neck, flipping herself over the top of his shoulder and landing directly behind him, re-hooking the chain around his throat. 

He tried to grab at her again.

“I wouldn’t if I was you,” Helen warned, her tone like ice as she pulled tighter, the chain digging into his neck, his face turning red. “Now, kindly, let go of the syringe and I might stop the chain from crushing your windpipe.” 

He grasped at his throat with his spare hand. But nodded. The syringe dropped, and Helen crushed it with her shoe. 

He tried to hit her, but she moved swiftly out of reach. Her hold didn’t slacken as he tried again and again. 

Then, shuddering one last time, Owen ceased resisting, his body heavy slumped to the floor, unconscious and she released him, lifting the chain over his neck. 

Breathing hard, she felt almost drained as the rage and adrenalin seeped out of her. Her eyes widened with shock.

What the hell had come over her? She thought, staring at his fallen form, an angry red mark around his neck. 

Trembling slightly, she stood staring at Owen lying on the floor. 

Was he even breathing? Did she kill him? 

She crouched beside him and felt for his pulse. “Oh god. Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.” 

Her fingers pressed against his neck for a few moments, sighing in relief when she found one. 

Helen picked herself back up. 

“It was self-defence.” She reassured herself. Panic was the last thing she needed. 

Helen, rolled him over and took his security passcode, keys, and shakily unclipped his gun from his holster. Tucking the weapon into her coat pocket. 

“Great first knocking a guard unconscious, now this….” She whispered. Helen heard people chattering nearby and ran, sticking to the side paths.

She didn’t have time to wonder at her actions. 

All she had time for was to escape. And that’s exactly what she planned to do….


	2. A Leap Of Faith

Everything was going just peachy… until a warning alarm sounded. It’s high, shrill assaulted her ears. Shouts could be heard, and the sounds of footsteps were fast approaching.

 _Damn it, they must have found Owen_.

Helen picked up the pace, darting around the corner, she unlocked the door to a small, dusty supply room, with metal shelves and an old window.

Quickly ducking inside, she closed the door, praying that no one saw her. Surely her luck could not be that bad.

She pressed herself against the side of the door fame, listening for a few moments, the sound of her own heartbeat rushing in her ears.

Their unanimous footsteps in time with its frantic rhythm. Until suddenly the chaos, stopped. Taking the screeching alarm and bellowing shouts, into its, blissful silence.

Then, and only then, did she move from the wall and lock the door. She certainly didn’t want to take any chances. The quiet only put her more on edge.

Helen sighed, running her hands through her hair, trying to catch her breath. This was beyond a nightmare. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t she remember anything? Why was she here?

Her eyes inspected the cool lit room. She was wasting time. Time she didn’t have.

Helen approached the window. Her hands turning the latch, cringing as it squeaked in protest. She pushed upwards. Nothing. She pushed again and again, but the window wouldn’t budge.

It was sealed shut. Angry, she hit the wooden frame hard with her hand, grazing the soft flesh on her palm. Helen growled, wanting nothing more than to shoot through the glass, with her recently borrowed gun.

But that would just draw attention. Which was something she definitely didn’t want or need. I just want to remember…..I just want… Helen pressed her hand against the grimy window. She shut her eyes for a moment and bit back her own helplessness. For that would only make this situation worse. Not that she thought it could get much worse to begin with.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, containing her frustration and looked down outside. Even if she did manage to open the window.

That was a 20 metre drop; possibly more… She never would have made it. Her handcuffs were rubbing her skin raw, but she ignored the pain. She couldn’t give up; she had to keep moving.

Helen scanned the shelves for anything she could use. Her eyes found a rusted knife and 16 meters’ worth of thick, electrical cable, the wires still spilling out of the ends. Perhaps, if she could loosen the window with the blade, then attach the cable to the bottom ledge of the window, she could climb down.

A 4 metre drop was certainly better than a twenty meter drop. She just hoped she could run after it. She glanced down at her black stilettos.

_The heels would definitely have to go._

But Just as Helen’s fingers began to close around the hilt of the knife, she heard something outside. Footsteps. She bit her lip.

They were close now. She could see a shadow appear on the floor beneath the door. Movements stilled.

_Were they listening for her?_

Anticipation mixed with fear, a potent poison her mind tried to resist as the handle turned. She hadn’t even heard them use a key.

Yet the door remained closed.

Helen restrained from sighing with relief. She licked her lips, the tension in her body. Relaxing slightly locking it, had certainly been a good idea.

Obviously they didn’t have a key. If she just kept quiet, maybe they would give up and leave.

Then the lock clicked. Obviously she was wrong. Very wrong.

Helen’s eyes widened and pulled out her gun, aiming it at the door. A man stepped through, dressed in a fine, dark suit, with a black vest and tie. Steel blues eyes met hers, surprised, then gave her a sharp toothed grin. Unlike Owen’s, his entire demeanour was sleek, almost mischievous and, if she was honest, he held an odd sort of charm.

_Yeah, I bet he’ll be really charming when he turns you in._

“Well, this is unexpected. And here I thought I was the only one to crash the party.” He replied his eyes sparkling as he closed the door quietly, with one hand behind his back.

It seemed as if the room was touched by electricity as soon as he entered. Its faint hum lingered through her body, washing over her. Like a memory. But it was so distant. So faint. It slipped away from her conscious mind, her eyes flicking back to him.

“Lovely as this is, running in to you,” he appraised her, and she regarded him, confused. “I must say, I am rather put out you didn’t call me first.”

“Call you?” She enquired. What the hell was this man talking about? They had never met before. Not that she would have remembered anyway….

“Crashing parties alone is… entertaining, if you don’t get caught.” He shrugged then his expression became more playful. “But even so, it’s always more fun together, don’t you think?”

She arched a brow at him. Her eyes watched his every move. Was he a guard? He wasn’t wearing the uniform that Owen was wearing. His suit was far too immaculate. And if he was a guard, why he was talking about crashing a party she could not begin to fathom. Why was he not apprehending her?

His gaze slipped to her iron clad wrists, the chain dangling between them. “Looks like someone ran into trouble. Nice job on the guard by the way.” He smirked, stepping closer to her and she aimed the gun at his chest.

“Don’t,” she warned and he halted. “Don’t move any closer or, I swear to god, I will shoot you.” The man turned his head to the side, but looked more bemused than frightened. “Come on, Helen…”

“How do you know that?” She snapped, her finger tightening on the trigger.

“Know what?” He frowned, genuine confusion seeming to swirl within his cool steel eyes. He appeared more concerned by the nature of her reply then by the gun that stood between them. The gun in her hands. “My name.” Her hands shook slightly.

He gave her an odd look. “You know, over the years, names do tend to slip, I will admit.” He gestured airily. “But you, my dear, are simply far too memorable for that.” His eyes brightened, a smile playing with the corner of his lips, challenging her. Daring her. Mocking her. As if he was expecting her to join his little verbal game. But Helen didn’t want to play. Especially not with someone who worked for them. Charming or not.

“You think this is funny?” She bit back, the ferocity of her words seemed to stun him.

He looked at the gun then back at her, as if weighing up the situation. “No, not really. Funny isn’t quite what I would call this situation. Temperamental? Maybe. Explosive? Potentially. Attractive? Well, that goes without saying.” His eyes glimmered as he stalked closer.

She opened her mouth slightly then closed it. Why did that sound like a pick up line? For someone who she was still convinced was trying to take her back to that cell, or wherever stage 2 would commence, he seemed more interested in her than he was apprehending her.

“But I don’t really think you want to shoot me.” “Step closer and find out.” she replied, proud that her voice didn’t waver, but shocked when he did, in fact, move closer.

Only a few inches away, he placed his chest right against the end of the gun. Eyes locked on hers.

“I’m closer now and it looks like I found out.” He whispered, his voice low. “The safety’s still on, by the way.”

Helen glanced at the gun. Damn, why did he have to be right? So much for being intimidating.

She hadn’t even known it was…. She had never shot a gun, before. Or… had she?

Apparently she had taken out seven guards earlier. So maybe she had. She had also knocked out Owen…

If this man tried anything, she didn’t doubt she could do it again. It seemed almost instinctual.

But this guy was different somehow. Whoever he was, he acted like he knew her. The way he looked at her, the way he addressed her. It was like they had some sort of a past.

She sucked in a breath. Don’t fall for it, Helen. He was just trying to draw you in, make you let down your guard, and then take you out. Yes that was it. It had to be. He couldn’t know her.

“Stop pretending that you know me.” She growled, her eyes hard.

“Pretend?” His eyes narrowed. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t be hard to guess your mood, your hostility speaks volumes, darling.” He replied testily, eyes flashing. “It’s a wonder you even need a gun….” he opened his mouth to say something more, but she interrupted him.

“Tell me who you are.” She demanded pressing the end of the gun, harder against his chest, for emphasis. “Now.”

“Helen…” Uncertainty crept in his voice, intelligent eyes searching hers, for someone. Someone that wasn’t her. “It’s me… its Nikola. Why are you…?” Then realisation rippled across his features. “But…you don’t recognise me. Do you?”

He was persistent, she had to give him that. “No,” she stated flatly. “I don’t.”

Hurt flashed through his eyes and, for a moment, it was as if she had shot him. Such pain, caused from three little words. She blinked and it was gone replaced with an unreadable expression that she told herself was there the whole time. For that pain…. echoed of her own. It was like he had lost…something. Or someone.

Now she was just being silly.

“Looks like things just got more complicated.” He sighed running a hand through his spikey hair. “What do you remember?” He enquired evenly, with more calm than a man with a gun pointed at his chest should possibly possess, forced or not.

“The sanctuary, the five, Oxford…?” his voice became more desperate with each word until it almost broke on the last. “Vienna…?”

She felt something tingling in the back of her scalp at those words, especially the last one. They felt right somehow. But so disconnected. She bit her lip, shaking her head. She couldn’t let him know that. He could still be trying to trick her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about… I-”

“You may not, but its familiar isn’t it?” He replied, his piercing eyes sending shivers down her spine.

Helen readjusted the gun in her hands and thumbed off the safety as a precaution, remaining silent.

But, from his expression, either her actions or her deliberate avoidance of the question obviously told him what he needed to know. He had read her like a book.

 _Not that there was much to read,_ she thought bitterly. “What do you want?” Helen, eyed him warily. “Talk fast.”

“A few things, but if we are going to be specific to here and now, just two. One: for that gun,” he motioned to the weapon, “to be lowered away from my person, as this is a new suit. And two: I would really like to get us out of this place before they locate this lovely little supply room.”

“Hold a minute… get us out?” She shook her head confused. “You…. you don’t work for them?”

“Work for them?” He wrinkled his face in disgust, “Don’t insult me, I would rather drink cheap wine through a straw then be their overworked, underpaid, minion.” He spoke with such vehemence that, despite her better sense, she found herself almost tempted to believe him.

“Besides, I am more of a one man show,” He explained grandly. “And they, much like that cheapskate Edison,” He spat out the word as if it tasted vile, “Stole my work. I wanted it back, hence why I am here.”

“So you planned to steal it…?” Her tone was incredulous. These were not the type of people you wanted to meet let alone steal from. Besides; he didn’t seem to be armed with anything but a meticulous suit and witty remarks perched upon the end of his wicked tongue. But something about his air, the way he commanded himself with utmost deadly confidence, told Helen he was far more dangerous then he appeared. It was arrogance, but the sharp kind that knew to cut from experience.

“That was the plan.” He admitted. “However; due to this little situation, which has so ‘conveniently’ presented itself, I might add, that shall have to wait.” He regarded her irritably. “You just had to change my plans, didn’t you?”

“What?!” she exclaimed. “Then again you always do.” He continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. Though clearly agitated, his tone sounded almost fond at those last words.

But she ignored it. How dare he blame her for this predicament?! It’s not as if she willingly agreed to have her memories stolen. Or at least she hoped she didn’t…

“Remind me, again, why I haven’t yet pulled the trigger?” Her finger stroked down the side of the gun, menacingly.

He watched her movements, distractedly, but with a reverence that made her rather wish it was fear. That at least made her feel safer.

“Simple: Common interest. Both of us want to escape without being shot. And, whether you like or not at the moment….” His eyes turned to her. “I know you more than you do.” His words smooth and dangerous “Have I reminded you yet?”

She arched a brow. Something in his eyes told her that he wasn’t telling the full truth, but then she hadn’t been completely honest either.

“That’s your proposition? I come with you, and you help me recover my memories?”

“More or less.” He tilted his head. “And please, call me Nikola.”

Why did it feel like she was entertaining the thought of making a deal with the devil?

“Fine, Nikola.” She started cautiously and he nodded. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t.” He sighed, one hand on his hip. “But, then again, what’s life without a little risk, hmm?”

“A longer one.” She replied coolly.

“Or an early grave.” His eyes held hers. “My little distraction won’t hold those guards for long, so you’re just going to have to trust me. Like I am about to invest my trust in you not to damage my suit.” He gave her a knowing smirk.

His suit? That’s what he was worried about? Not bleeding to death, from a bullet lodged in his chest…

He slowly backed away. She tracked his movements with her gun, but didn’t fire. He didn’t seem surprised or, if he was, he didn’t show it. His back turned to her as he inspected the window.

“You are going to need something to pry……”

Helen started then watched as he opened the window with ease. Something she tried not to be impressed by.

 _Show off_. He barely put any effort into that at all.

“Impressed?” His lips curved, amused.

She rolled her eyes, changing the subject. “I gather you have a plan to get us out of here?”

He turned to her. “Of course.” Then added as he glanced at the empty street below, “Like I said, before. Trust me.”

“I trust you about as far as I can throw you.” She muttered, the gun still aimed at him. But she didn’t really have many other options but to accept his help. Heavy boots pounded on the floor outside.

Helen and Nikola both turned. “They’re in here!” Someone shouted. “Come out quietly, and you will not be harmed! Resist and well…we only need one of you.” The voice sneered.

“Well, looks like the welcoming party has just arrived.” Nikola quipped. “So… how far can you throw me, again?”

Helen lowered the gun, tucking it into her belt so it rested against her hip before walking to where he was standing next to the window. “For the moment, let’s just pretend it’s really far, because that’s comforting….” As she moved to join him on the ledge, taking his offered hand.

“Glad you think so.” He drew her close to him as, while it was a tall window, it sure wasn’t very wide.

“You know, I rather like it up here.” He smirked, their faces were very close and she gave him an exasperated look.

“Yes, well I rather like being alive.” she retorted. “And if we wait any longer, one of us might not be.”

He leaned closer again. “Well let’s increase those chances, shall we?” Helen breathed in sharply, as his hands fell to her wrists. Long fingers brushing her skin, as he undid her handcuffs in three swift movements, tossing them aside. “How did you..?” she gasped, looking at her unbound hands then back at him, who just looked positively delighted by her reaction.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” He whispered mischievously in her ear, his cheek almost brushing hers. “Now, you might want to hold on to me.”

“For someone in mortal peril, you’re enjoying this far too much.” She gave him a pointed look as he pulled away slightly, so his eyes were level with hers.

“And you’re not?” He smirked.

“No.” she retorted. “I am starting to think I should have taken my chances with the guards outside at least I know their motives.” She searched for the electrical, cable. But… He wasn’t holding it.

He scoffed “That hasn’t changed, even when you remembered me.”

“Then don’t make me guess, and maybe it might.” She turned her head so she could face him, hoping she could discern some sense of honesty, something that told her she was right to trust him.“

That’s called ‘being predictable’. Besides,” he motioned to the window, “I doubt it will assist you in throwing me any further than you can now, as you so aptly put it. Call this a leap of faith, if you will.”

“This is your last warning! Surrender!” Barked the man outside “I am giving you five seconds!” Helen sighed as she held his arm, his own wrapped around her waist. “Don’t make me regret not shooting you.”

Where was the cable? Her mind raced. Surely he wasn’t going to jump without it.

“Oh, I highly doubt it would be the first time. Now hold tight.” He winked as the guards burst through the door aiming at them both.

“What are you…? Nikolaaaaa!!!!!” Her arms wrapped around his neck as Nikola spontaneously jumped out of the window, with her now in his arms, her face pressed against his shoulder. It was then she became absolutely certain of two things: That he was crazy, and that they were both going to die. So much for a leap of faith…..


	3. Don't Let Go

Nikola leapt through the air, angling his body to the left as gunshots fired. The bullets almost grazed his Jacket. 

With ease, Nikola gripped the neighbouring balcony ledge about several metres adjacent from the window side. 

He silently praised the architect who designed this layout for being dull and repetitive. The next five metres, down offered exactly the same view. 

The balconies were about a two metre drop between them. Perhaps a bit more to reach each railing, on the opposite side. They might have been apartments at some point. 

They continued to fire after them. Well more like after him. They had said they had only wanted one of them, and it sure wasn’t him. Not that tranquilisers would do much. 

And this mob was well aware of that. Especially after last time… 

No, they had another angle, his brow creased. One that pointed very obviously at the woman who was currently in his arms. 

What had Helen been doing to get caught up in this vipers den? 

And they say I’m a trouble magnet…. He mused to himself, his back turned to their assailants, shielding her as much as possible. Though it seemed with their appalling aim, he hadn’t needed too.  
His thoughts were disrupted, as Helen’s arms wrapped around his neck her grip tightening, as they lost altitude, her face pressing into his shoulder. 

And, despite the situation, it was an action he found most…. distracting. He spared a glance at her briefly, glimpsing those fine blue eyes beneath long lashes. Undeniably so. 

Her eyes flicked to his, for a moment; confusion, anger and… fear, swirled like a wild storm, as if she was uncertain of which emotion to embrace. 

But it was the emptiness that caught him, the same hollow, unfamiliarity that one might impart upon a stranger. 

All our past… everything wiped clean like a hardrive. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched. 

Nikola wasn’t normally prone to violence. That was Johnny’s forte. However; if this was…. irreversible…. His heart clenched at the thought. He would make them pay. Slowly and painfully. 

But right now he needed to concentrate. Her life depended on it. In more ways than one. 

Landing on the small balcony railing below, something that may have been more graceful if there wasn’t two people. Helen was practically sitting in his lap, her knees brushing against his chest.  
Not that he minded though. A smile touched his lips.

 

Nikola let go of the metal bar and landed on the outside of the lower balcony, gripping onto the railing with one hand and his feet planted on the edge of the brick ledge. 

The ground was coming closer and those lug heads with more muscles then brain cells between them were relentless. 

He looked back at her “My, my. Wiping memories, releasing their guard dogs… They must want you for something. They don’t expend this much effort, for just anybody.” 

“Seeing as they expend those efforts in attempt to kill us.” Helen ducked her head as they fired once again. “Forgive me, if I seem ungrateful.”

“By the looks of it….” His eyes traced the path of a dart, skittling past them. “I’d say they are more eager to detain you. Although, impatient brutes that they are, they might take both of us out, or at least attempt to, anyway.” 

“How often has this happened to you?” Her tone was as incredulous as her look.  
“More like to us. And it occurs with a stunning regularity.” He quipped his eyes flicking to hers for a moment. “Especially, in your profession.” 

“My profess….” But she stopped halfway as a dart shaped projectile missed them by a fraction. 

“Bloody Hell.” 

“Perhaps I could relay those details at a later time” He shrugged a shoulder. “Preferably with a nice merlot.” He added as an afterthought.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She breathed, her voice tight. 

“I look forward to it.” He smirked, then turned his attention back to those pesky cretins.

Perhaps, those metallic projectiles should find themselves a new target. The vampire mused, Ah magnetism, how do I love thee?

“As much as I hate to say this, I am going to need my other hand.” His fingers brushed against her waist slightly, his hold loosening. 

“Mind telling me what you’re planning?” Her voice both accusatory and slightly hesitant as she readjusted her grip around him, to keep herself from slipping.

“Just something to even the playing field.” His eyes taking on a predatory glint. “A distraction, if you will.”

“If it’s anything like your plan to escape, I don’t like it already.”

He smiled, voice soft. “Don’t let go.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” She replied, holding him tighter, her cheek resting near the crook of his neck. 

Then he jumped. And as expected they fired. 

You want to play, then let’s play. He manipulated the metal darts, halting their path, with a flick of his hand and dispersed them in the opposite direction. Feeling very satisfied, with himself, when yelps sounded from the Window above them. 

His hand, skimmed the railing below and almost lost his grip as a single dart grazed his side, slicing through his flesh. He bit back a growl.

“Ah…!” She let out a cry as her grip loosened, just enough for her hands to slip from his neck. But Nikola was faster, his hand reached out and caught her around the waist. 

Relief flooded through his veins as he pulled her securely to him, restraining himself from making any snappy retorts as her arms retook their position around his neck, holding him closer if that was even possible. 

Her hip pressing the dart, further into his side, making the wound seep. The blood hidden by his dark jacket. He would have to remove that later. 

But at that moment, he didn’t care. He barely even felt the pain. All he felt was her body trembling slightly against his. 

Reminding him how close he came to losing her…. 

“Helen?” he breathed.

She nodded “I’m fine.....I...” Her voice soft and muffled against the collar of his shirt. He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke. 

But he wasn’t listening. His ears were filled with her heartbeat... pounding in her chest. The exquisite rush of her blood as it surged through her veins. Sweet and intoxicating. 

His tongue ran over his fangs absentmindedly. 

Then he caught himself. 

Fangs. 

His eyes widened as he saw his long claws wrapped around the curve of her waist. Sharp and serene. 

Oh no. 

“Nikola…?”

Hastily he retracted them being careful not to slice her with their razor edges. His eyes flashing from black to blue, teeth morphing from serrated to curve. Glad that had she been looking away from him.  
Normally he had far better control. He had mastered it. 

It’s just he hadn’t taken his medication in weeks and after being shot without feeding for over two, Maybe three days….. It weakened him. In more ways than one. 

Not that he could ever bring himself to bite her. 

Promise or no promise. 

He would rather starve himself, than that. She knew that. Or at least she had known that. 

“Nikola, are you…?” Her voice grew slight more worried. 

“We need to keep moving.” He told her, brushing past her inquiry about him. As touching as it was. 

He sighed. Being shot at was enough for most people for one day, let alone that the person who was saving you was the last of the most powerful race of abnormals, ever to walk and, at one point, rule the earth. Although he was still working on that last part…. 

Anyway, there would be plenty of time to tell her of that, among many other things later. For now, he would keep quiet. 

He needed her to trust him. And fangs and claws didn’t exactly scream trustworthy, now did they?  
Oh her little employees were going to be less than thrilled with him, when they found out. In fact he was surprised she hadn’t brought one of her precious little underlings with her. Must have been a solo mission. 

He rolled his eyes. Protégé would probably think Nikola had done this on purpose. But the children could say what they wanted, it’s not like he listened anyway. If they didn’t like it, tough. 

Nikola would be staying. For as long as she needed him, he would be there. 

Turning his attention to the ground. His sharp mind calculated a three metre drop from the railing, possibly less due to the sloped nature of the pavement. 

Easy. 

He could have dropped at twenty and landed on his feet. However she would definitely be suspicious after that, if she wasn’t already. 

For with or without her memories, somethings had certainly remained intact. And her intelligence was certainly one of them. 

But three metres: that was… explainable. 

His muscles tensed as he angled his body and swung. His feet landing solidly as they made contact with the ground, quickly ducking around the corner of the building, carrying Helen bridal-style until they were fully behind the safety of its wall. Then he slowly placed her on the ground. 

“Well… That was fun.” He whispered, watching her intently, his arm still wound around her waist. His proximity distracting her enough so that his left hand could stealthy remove the dart from his side, placing it into his pocket as easily as Houdini had slid cards under the sleeve of his jacket.

“Fun?” She exclaimed, her breathing hard as her hands slid from his neck “We almost died and all you can say is that was fun?!” 

“Oh I am not limited to simply one adjective.”

“No, you’re insane.” She pulled away from him. That part he was used to, in fact it felt almost strange if she didn’t, sadly. 

However he wasn’t used to that look in her eyes… that lack of recognition. 

“Possibly.” He shrugged his mask perfectly in place. “But then agai,n you’re the one who agreed to come with me, so I’d say both our sanity is questionable.” 

“I didn’t expect you to just jump out the window with nothing but us.” She hissed as she followed him through the back allies. 

“Ah, Correction! We just jumped out the window, with nothing but us.” He smirked. “It was a team effort, don’t discredit yourself, darling, you played your part beautifully.” 

She glared at him, disbelievingly. “Yes because holding onto a lunatic as he launches himself out the window, is certainly worth bragging about.”  
Nikola gave her a pointed look, clearly unimpressed and was about to remind her in every sense of the word that he was a genius not a lunatic. 

A click of a gun echoed in his ears, and he glimpsed a black Kevlar vest, moving just around the corner, barely 30 feet away. One of the guards…

Luckily, he knew the back routes. He just needed to keep Helen and him out of their sights for a little bit longer. 

Nikola quickly took her arm and gently pulled her to him, pressing them both against a wall.  
Her mouth opened in protest, but he silenced her, placing his finger to her lips. “Guards,” he mouthed, and she stiffened, nodding mutely, if not a little reluctantly. 

It seemed, even with Amnesia, Helen hated not being in control of the situation. He rolled his eyes.

After a few moments, Nikola moved cautiously to the side. He knew that that simpleton had gone towards the left side of the complex, but he checked over his shoulder for a few seconds.  
To keep up with his ruse of being…..ordinary. 

He shivered internally. The sooner he could tell her, the better. As, besides loving his Vampiric heritage, he didn’t like insulting her intelligence with a half-hearted lie.

“It seems our adventure continues.” He smirked, extending out his hand with a flourish beside her “This way, milady.”

“You seem awfully sure, about that.” She eyed him warily, but began walking. 

“Would you rather I wasn’t certain? That I was merely just leading you through a dangerous passage outside of a less than pleasant facility, on a whim?” He answered deftly, smoothing down his jacket as he stalked ahead. “Because, I don’t know about you, but I am finding certainty a far more appealing prospect than its ignorant cousin.” 

“Funny, I am finding the same thing with arrogance,” she retorted and his lips twitched, amused, drawing closer to her, in one graceful step. 

“Sharp as ever Ljubav.” He whispered, and her confusion was rather adorable as she tilted her head slightly, narrowed her eyes. “We’re almost there, by the way, just in case you’re interested.”

“Where are we going exactly, if you don’t mind me asking?” She enquired, shaking her head as if brushing his earlier comment aside.

He could tell she was still dubious of his intentions. And while it kind of hurt, he couldn’t really blame her. Based on his past record, the one she couldn’t remember - luckily - it was not without reason.  
But Helen, despite his mishaps, always had trusted him. Even when the rest of the world turned their back on him. She was there. So it was certainly time he returned the favour. 

“Their back door. Which also happens to be a lovely place to park a car.” He grinned. “Ah, here we are…. so many too choose from. Helen, help me pick.” 

“I am guessing none of them are yours?” She sighed, stalking over to him. 

“Hey, you stole that gun.” He gestured to the one that rested snugly against her hip. “From that Guard, if your handcuffs and the great unconscious oaf I walked past, has anything to say about that, so don’t get all high and mighty.” He crossed his arms petulantly. “Besides, I am letting you choose.”

“Oh yes, you’re a saint, Generosity is thy name.” She scoffed but began to inspect the cars.

“I like the red one.” He offered after a moment. The one in question being the Italian sports car. 

“What happened to letting me pick the car?” She offered him a wry smile and he shrugged innocently. 

“Just a suggestion.”

“Indeed, but I have already chosen.”

“And?” He pressed, slightly impatiently. The guards would sure to be hot on their trail soon. His eyes flicking to the surveillance cameras briefly, which were posted around the area. He had knocked out their security systems, once he had arrived here. But that was only temporary. They only had about five minutes before they came back on. 

“That one.” She pointed to the small black car, with a white stripe spilling down its little obnoxiously round middle. Its number plate read: 0W3N. His face twisted into mortification, then disgust. 

“With every car here,” He gestured animatedly to the lavish and expensive cars, “you picked a Mini Cooper!?” He exclaimed. 

“Yes, its low profile, reliable and…” she smirked, “Well, along with the gun, I just happen to have the keys for it.” She jingled a collection of keys in front of him that she pulled out of her pocket.

“Catch.” 

He caught the keys deftly, but took no pleasure in it. Scowling at her. 

“Fine, but your car picking privileges have officially been revoked.” One hand on hip as he stalked towards the chubby, bubble inspired, mockery. 

“Perfectly good sports car… but no, she picks the Mini Damn Cooper.” He muttered under his breath. “At least it’s a convertible…”


	4. Dramatic Exit

Driving through the back of the facility, unnoticed, seemed to be going fairly smoothly…. Until they met an automated gate system surrounded by heavily armed guards on watch posts. It was then she realised why it had been so easy, as their predicament rapidly began to disintegrate.

“Bloody hell!” Helen cursed, her heart racing as her eyes found, what looked to be, machine guns. “I thought you said they wanted to detain, not kill us.”

“Detain you, yes. Me? Not so much.” Nikola tilted his head to the side, seemingly undaunted by the possibility of death.

“You have nowhere to run, now, so stand down and release her, or spitting metal will be the last thing you ever see.” A man yelled, a nasty smirk on his lips.

“Then I have only one thing to say… Is there an option B?” Nikola asked, an enquiry which was met with silence and a disapproving glare from Helen.

The audacity of this man was astounding.

The men aimed their weapons at the Mini, from their posts. Yet none of the guards were grounded. And why should they? she thought, the high ground was far more to their advantage.

Helen bit her lip. It wasn’t fair, they had them cornered with their backs against the wall, and Nikola surely wouldn’t risk himself, further.

She wasn’t worth the cost.

The selfish part of her wanted to scream, to claw its way out of this situation. But there was no way out.

“You…you have to hand me over.” Her words sliced through the air like a knife, and she felt the sting, as if they had cut her own flesh.

“It would seem so,” he nodded, his sharp eyes on her.

Helen sucked in a breath, forcing herself to nod, as her hand reached for the door. However; the lock clicked, before she could open it.

Helen looked at him, confused. “Why did you…?”

“They never said ‘please’, and last time I checked, I’m not their delivery boy.” Nikola replied cheekily, while he kept looking at the clock on the dash, until the long hand ticked past twelve.  
“Show time,” he murmured.

Suddenly, huge electric discharge from the compound made parts of buildings catch on fire; the automated gate opened as if possessed, from the overload of power. While the guards were shocked in more ways than just the psychological sense. They looked like they were having a mini seizure, while trying to tap-dance. Helen would have almost felt sorry for them, if they hadn’t been responsible for her predicament.

The way the electricity sparked and danced in graceful arches had her captivated, despite how damn close it was to hitting the car. She only avoided her eyes when one of the broken cables from the building next to them sent out sparks which rained upon the bonnet.

“Well that was exciting,” Nikola smirked, wasting no time as he drove through the tight space between the disabled guards and sped out of the fried gate. “But if that’s what passes for security these days, then…,” he sighed. “I am most disappointed.”

She turned to him, exasperated, her heart racing. “What is it with you and dramatic exits? As I presume that electric display was your doing?”  
“I may have had something to do with the electrical complication, yes.” He admitted with a shrug “The fire, however; no… but it certainly has its uses.” His eyes sparkled, as the smoke haze unfurled behind them. “And that dramatic exit is what got us out in the first place.”

She couldn’t argue with him on that. The chaos he had created was certainly going to occupy their attention for a while.

But that didn’t mean tracking them by car was out of the question. So, every couple of minutes, Helen kept looking over her shoulder, half expecting to see that Italian red sports car chasing after them.  
“If you are hoping for a car chase, you won’t get one.” Nikola, disrupted her thoughts. “The little distraction I created, fried every, car, computer, phone, photocopier and coffee machine, within the complex.”

“Ah, right, how I could forget?” She held her hands in her lap, feeling a little foolish. “I suppose nothing would have after that…” She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing. “If that’s the case…. then how come this car wasn’t affected during the blast?”

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Came his amused reply, his lips curving mischievously. But her question to her frustration remained unanswered, her curiosity flared, burning in its desire to be sated. But she supressed it, for the time being.

She was exhausted, but as she saw the foggy haze of what was her prison, she found it impossible to relax, let alone sleep.  
So, she stared out at grey sky and, strangely, found herself wishing it would rain.

 

As the facility became a distant speck behind them, Helen began to feel something akin to being safe.

Safe? Helen scoffed to herself. At the moment, any sense of security couldn’t be any further away from her if it tried.

She sighed; it seemed ‘less paranoid’ would have to suffice.

After the rush of adrenaline ceased to course through her veins, all of the previously pent up energy abandoned her.

She felt numb. Empty.

Even Nikola had gone quiet.

The silence spread between them like an invisible wall.

Perhaps he was trying to give her time to process everything, or was too tired to bother with striking up a conversation.

Either way, she wasn’t about to complain. In fact she was glad for it.

Helen gently rubbed her wrists, the skin tender and sore, with red angry marks to match.

But she was too distracted by her thoughts to really take note of the pain. She had all these questions inside her, however they mostly surrounded Nikola, who kept his eyes studiously on the road. Who was he really, and why he was helping her?

_I held him at gun point, how much more of an incentive really is there?_

Perhaps, but the gun is not drawn now, and you don’t know what he wants with you. A voice whispered harshly and she shivered at the thought. She was just so tired, frustrated… and more than a little scared.

She just wanted something to trust in. Someone to trust.

 _What if I can trust him?_ Helen bit her lip, tracing the leather seat with her fingers.

He knew her name, but he could have found her file, and tracked her to the storeroom. Helen swallowed. Maybe this was a setup. Yes, perhaps he was going to sedate her and bring her back to that darkened hole of a room, so they could finish whatever they had started to do to her.

Helen shook her head.

 _Be reasonable_ , she chided herself.

 _He said he wasn’t working for them, and while he could have lied about that, why would the guards shoot at both of them?_ She looked down at her wrists.  
_Why did he remove my handcuffs?_ _Not to mention our very nearly suicidal jump out the window…_

She remembered how his arms tightened around her when she almost slipped; how he held her close to him; the way his eyes met hers as he jumped from railing to railing.  
Helen felt warmth creep up the back of her neck, brushing those thoughts away. He had a flair for dramatics, that was obvious, and she didn’t doubt the man could act when the situation called for it.

Stealing this car…their rather explosive exit. Why would he go to all this trouble, just to take her back? And besides, there were other tell-tales.

He had said something about _Oxford,_ and _five_ ……. Was it?

Yes. Something pulled at her. It felt right. Distant but familiar, in a way.

And the other one, she bit her lip. _Vienna._

Suddenly, she felt slightly flushed.

What was it about that place which made her feel…. like that?

She tried piecing things together, but it was like trying to do a jigsaw when half the pieces were missing. You could only see fragments of an image, if you were lucky.

Helen gritted her teeth, it just didn’t make any sense, though nothing truly did at this point.

It was like viewing the world through a fishbowl, swimming inside yourself. A picture, blurred and distorted, of a life you once lived.

A life you once knew…

Helen let her head press against the window, wrapping one arm around herself she stared out of the cold glass without taking in the view.

It was a gamble to stay with him. God, she didn’t even know where he was taking her, let alone his intentions. But, ultimately, what other choice did she have? She wanted answers, and he had them.

Like he said: _“He knew more about her, than she did.”_

So it was about time she started to ensure he kept his word on his side of the deal.

But, first things first, she needed to know their destination. From what she could tell of the odd passing signs, was that they were heading towards somewhere called Hillsborough.

Helen sat up straighter in her seat, trying to push aside her despair. Answers first, tears later. She may not have much control over her present situation, but she could control herself, at least. Mostly…

“You never told me where we’re going?” She enquired, her voice not as confident as she would have liked.

“You never asked.” Came his immediate reply.

 _Cheeky,_ Helen rolled her eyes. Was he always like this? Or did he intentionally try to be obnoxious, just for the hell of it.

“Well I am asking, now.” She retorted dryly. “And I would appreciate a direct answer if that is within your capabilities.”

“My, my... Someone’s bossy.” He clicked his tongue. “But as for our destination, I have a room in the Glass fountain Hotel, in town just a couple of hours from here. And, as for tomorrow, I will escort you back to your Sa… Home,” he corrected smoothly, but Helen noticed the slip. “I am sure the kids will want to know you’re safe.”

Home? Kids? Helen shook her head, confused, then touched her stomach reflexively. She had children?

“What? I have…?” Helen swallowed, as another unbidden thought came into her head. With who? Who is the father? Helen looked at Nikola uncertainly for clarification. “Ah, I mean, do we…have…?”

Nikola laughed. It was deep and resonating, and she found it pleasant to listen to, despite the circumstance of why he was undoubtedly laughing in the first place. “No, we don’t. The kids I refer to are your employees.” His eyes gleamed.

Helen sighed, though whether it was out of relief, or disappointment, she didn’t fully know. But she was sticking with relief. Then she silently cursed him for making her sound like an awkward, stumbling mess.

“Interesting that you thought that, though,” he commented, sounding more delighted than anything else.

“You said kids! what else was I supposed to think, baby goats?” She cried, annoyed.

“No, no, not that part.” He smirked, as he turned smoothly around a bend, the engine thrumming as he hit the accelerator.

“Then what?” She enquired, wearily, not trusting his smirk. She didn’t know… Didn’t remember him, but there was something almost instinctual that told her, that expression meant trouble.

  
“The part where you thought they were ours.” Came his reply, his smirk faltered slightly, like a flickering light.

Helen almost chocked on embarrassment. The only good part about the situation, was that he was concentrating on the road, so he couldn’t see her blushing.

As expected, his smirk had returned to what seemed its full smirking glory. But his eyes… something was different. They looked wistful, pained….. It was only brief, barely a glimpse.

But his momentary vulnerability made her soften, slightly.

“Ah, that.” She smiled ruefully. “But in all honesty, it was the way you said it…” She looked down at her hands, thoughtfully. “As if they were ours…. and I just assumed.” Helen sighed.

“Are you sure that was the only reason?” He replied. Mischief coated his words and, this time, he was more than a touch flirtatious. Yet she didn’t find his behaviour repulsive or lewd. In fact, she found it puzzling as to what kind of relationship they had, when she remembered who she was.

“If there were others,” Helen began, turning to him with an innocent shrug. “Then I really wouldn’t know, now, would I?”

His eyes met hers, for a second, eyebrows raised, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Well played, but the amnesia card won’t work forever, darling.”

While his tone was airy, teasing, she felt a weight fall on her, pulling her down with its own powerful sense of gravity, and, try as she might to make light of it, the despair leaked through. “I hope you’re right on that. On the amnesia part, anyway.” Her words came out strained, as she tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“Helen,” he began softly. “Whatever they did, we will figure out how to….”

“I get it, thank you….” She interrupted testily, regretting it as soon as she said it. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to snap.” She sighed and noticed that instead of a crestfallen or solemn expression, he was grinning. “I … Why are you smiling?” For some reason she found her lips, twitching into one as well.

“Nothing, it’s just your dislike for being coddled is still amusing, that’s all.”

Helen shot him a look. “Fascinating. Now if you have finished entertaining yourself, perhaps we can focus on the task at hand?” She replied dryly, but the smile was still on her face.  
“Of course.” His eyes were gleaming. “Carry on.”

“I escaped with you, so that you could provide me with answers about who I am. That was our arrangement.” Her tone was professional and perhaps a bit cold, but she needed to remain objective, detached, otherwise her emotions would drown her. She felt a bit awful, but her nerves were getting to her, and while he had helped her this far, she didn’t completely trust him, just yet.

“Something like that, yes,” he replied, his tone dry. “But you forgot one thing regarding your side of the agreement.”

“What was that?” Helen narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“If you desire to shoot me,” he whispered in a low velvet tone that made her shiver internally, despite herself. “Try not to damage my suit.”


	5. A Ruse Or Two

From his peripherals, he observed Helen. Her shoulders were straighter and she seemed less edgy the further they drove, but not quiet relaxed in his company.

Not that he could blame her, all things considered. He was still a stranger in her eyes, after all. And, more so, she was a stranger to herself.

Despite her impressive play at composure, she couldn’t hide her unease from him.

Apprehension lingered within every breath, in every glance. Her fear was as audible to him as her heartbeat.

His fingers tightened around the wheel automatically, knuckles turning white.

Helen was always so bold, so fearless. But right now, she was vulnerable, exposed in so many ways. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this and his protectiveness flared.

She looked so… lost. It pained him.

He wanted to comfort her, but she seemed so out of reach, even more than usual. Besides, what words of solace could he possibly offer?

“You said something about Oxford?” Her soft, almost tentative question cut through his thoughts, as he changed lanes.

So, the questioning has begun.

The memory, of it tugged at him.

“Yes, Oxford University,” he answered wistfully.

“University,” she repeated, as if testing the way it felt. “I was a student?”

He liked how the enthusiasm grew in her voice as she learnt, or rather, relearnt.

“We both were.”

“Hmm.” She murmured to herself, her eyes lighting up slightly “What did we study?”

“You studied, biology.”

“Why Biology?” Her voice, seemed to thrum with barely contained anticipation.

“For the medical qualifications.”

“I wanted to be a physician?” She exclaimed, sounding delighted.

“You didn’t just study, Helen. Or should I say, Doctor Helen Magnus.” He grinned. He loved saying her full title, the way it just rolled off the tongue.

“Wait, what….?” She paused for a moment, as if to gain her bearings at this revelation. “Doctor… I’m a… No, no, this isn’t...” she swallowed “You’re serious aren’t you?”

Nikola nodded. “The finest one I know.”

“Do you happen to know many doctors?” She gave a short laugh.

“You could say that.” He replied cryptically, and Helen didn’t push the subject.

“You haven’t told me what you studied,” she prompted.

“Physics. However; I slipped away into your classes more than once.” Nikola’s eyes sparkled.

“Ah, a truant I see.” She didn’t seemed surprised by that. But he couldn’t decide whether that was a good sign of a speedy recovery, or an insult.

“Tell me, did you sneak in through the window?” Her tone sprinkled with amusement, and a touch of sarcasm.

 _Fantastic. I jump through a window once, and now she thinks it is impossible for me to enter an establishment, like a civilised person._ Nikola thought drily.

“No, my approach was far more novel.” He quipped and she gave him a questioning look. “I opened the door.”

“Revolutionary,” she rolled her eyes, and his lips gave in to the impish curve.

“But why skip to attend another class? Were you bored, or did you just happen to have a particular interest in biology?” She wasn’t being flippant, she seemed genuinely curious.

“Professor Boyle wasn’t entirely captivating, and he hated me ever since I happened to ask a very valid question, in regards to a simple mathematical equation.”

“Which was?”

“I think it was something like, ‘I noticed your working out is identical to mine. If so, why is your answer wrong?’.”

“Did you do this in every class?”

“What, provide valuable contributions?”

“No, be a pain,” she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow at her, momentarily. “Only when they were wrong. Anyway, as I was saying, in biology, the subject wasn’t what primarily held my attention.” He smirked, catching her blushing a delicate pink through his peripherals as she subtly turned away.

Normally it took a lot more than that to make the Great Helen Magnus blush. It was both endearing and …strange.

“This is where you are staying?” She pointed to the tall, grand building, with its sandstone pillars and neo classical design, as he drove into the narrow lane.

“Yes.” He smiled at Helen’s awe, her deep blue eyes taking in every detail as they drove past. “It’s quiet, mostly, and the wine is quite excellent.”

“Sounds like you have a taste for the extravagant,” she murmured.

“What can I say? I have standards and the average hotel is far below them. He wrinkled up his nose in disgust. “For, where quality is concerned, I find expense is of little consequence.”

“I can see why. It’s beautiful.” She replied softly turning to him.

_So are you._

“I always thought so.” Nikola answered, admiration like a gentle whisper in his voice. Discreetly glancing away, he turned off the car, which he had parked a block away, next to a small deserted alleyway.

Hopefully some, car thief would take this stolen vehicle off their hands. The bubble inspired mockery had served them well, but it was time to move on.

 _Sayonara, Stripes_. He patted the dash fondly, despite himself, as he got out of the car and opened the door for her.

Helen gave him an odd look, her eyes flicking between him and the door. “I am perfectly capable of doing that, you really don’t have….”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he interrupted, his hip leaning against the door frame slightly. “Call me old fashioned, but I believe that chivalry isn’t some form of suppression designed to disregard a woman’s competence, or independence, but rather emphasise their importance and unquestionable value.” His eyes met hers, his hand extended.

“Old fashioned… It sounds almost as if you were a gentleman from the Victorian era, with that philosophy.” Helen quipped meekly, then straightened her jacket before accepting his hand.  
Nikola smirked at the irony, pulling her to him with one graceful motion.

“Do I now? What makes you think a Victorian gentleman?” While his tone was teasing, his curiosity was peaked. Was she remembering, or was this merely a coincidental observation?

“I don’t know, it just… felt….” Her eyes met his, for an intense second, both standing close to each other, his fingers still wrapped securely around hers.

“Felt what?” He breathed softly, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice.

“Nothing, it’s nothing...” she shook her head, dismissing it. Nikola swallowed down his disappointment and desire to tell her everything then and there, it would be too much all at once. He needed to do this slowly. Otherwise it would only be more complicated and confusing for her, than it already was.

“Well then, shall we continue?” His thumb stroked the back of her hand, absentmindedly as he led her, up the street. The spectacular building burst into view, as did the lavish gold trimmed sign: THE GLASS FOUNTAIN HOTEL, engraved in delicate script.

“I think I can manage to walk, myself, now.” Helen answered more firmly, glancing at her hand in his, as they entered the foyer.

“I am perfectly aware of that.” Nikola’s eyes gleamed. “But we need a ruse, otherwise, they might get suspicious.”

Helen gave him an incredulous look, “Suspicious? From all the way across the street?!”

“How good is your acting?” He whispered in her ear, as they approached the desk and Helen gave him a withering look, catching on.

“No, absolutely not.” She began to pull away, but he steered her back to him, with little effort.

“We need a cover or we’ll draw attention to ourselves. And this works rather perfectly,” he murmured.

“Why can’t you just say that I’m your cousin, visiting you, or something?” She tried as he entwined their fingers. Her stubbornness evidently rearing its head. However; two could play at that game.  
“Where is the fun in that? Besides, relatives is a bit farfetched don’t you think?” He replied, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“No less far-fetched than your suggestion.” Helen muttered, underneath her sweet smile.

“Touché.”

“Mr Fin.” The blonde receptionist greeted him warmly. Nikola had had many alias's over the years, when he had to remain undetected. It wasn't safe to use the same one, regularly. 

“Good evening, Bethany.” Nikola replied, smoothly, flashing her a charming smile, I have just come to collect the key to my room.”

“Very well, sir…um…oh.” The receptionist gave Helen an odd look, glancing over her mussed appearance.

Nikola opened his mouth but Helen beat him to it.

“I’m Helen, nice to meet you,” she began flawlessly, extending her free hand to the receptionist, who accepted it, with slight hesitancy and nodded.

“I have just come back from out of town, and my luggage was supposed to arrive before me, but it has unfortunately been delayed. And there were complications with my accommodation. Things have been rather hectic, I’m afraid.” Helen tucked back a strand of hair, her mild exasperation touched with humour.

 _Well, she certainly hasn’t lost her touch,_ he thought to himself, utterly captivated by her performance.

“So Nikola,” she met his eyes, moving a fraction closer to him with a dazzling smile, “has been so kind as to let me stay with him until everything has been sorted out.” She directed a meaningful stare in his direction, underneath her dreamy expression as she untangled her hand from his to smooth out his lapel.

His eyes traced her every movement with unguarded reverence. She had always been a natural when it came to improvisation, and he was more than happy to play along. If he didn’t think about it, he could almost fool himself that she was herself again.

“I was hurt you even needed to ask, darling.” He purred.

Nikola lightly touched her arm, letting his fingers trail down its length.

He could feel Helen tense at his gentle, almost loving, caress, her sharp soft draw of breath loud in his ears, made him halt.

The illusion broke in an instant.

The normal warning glance would have been far less painful than this. He cursed himself for letting his emotions slip. He should have resisted.

It was ruse, why had he let himself get so carried away? _She needs to trust me_. He thought firmly. _She doesn’t need my… unwanted affections._

Nikola pulled away, slowly, giving her a tentative look, beneath his lazy smirk. But she didn’t meet his gaze, her attention fixed on Bethany who was saying something or rather. He wasn’t paying attention.

“I am sorry, your previous accommodation was so poorly organised. And normally the hotels out of town are far better at such arrangements.” Bethany frowned, placing a piece of paper in the small waste basket. “What hotel was it you said you were staying, before?”

“What….?” Helen started, as she stumbled slightly, placing her hand on his chest to steady herself, her palm over his heart.

 Nikola's arm wrapped around her, protectively making her misstep look like a playful embrace, in which he devised.   

“My bad, I simply couldn’t resist, however I never thought could make you go weak at the knees so quickly, Helen.” Nikola, answered with a grin.

“I’m wearing heels, darling, you can’t take all the credit.” She teased. “Sorry Bethany.” She smiled apologetically, but it was tighter than before. That question had really rattled her. 

“Your accommodation, prior to bring here?” Bethany repeated again, less patiently, and Nikola wasn’t overly fond of her tone. 

“It wasn’t a hotel.” Helen replied evenly, with a touch of fear, and she drew closer to him, still, her body pressed against his side; something he was most surprised at and only heightened his concern. What had they done to her, before he found her in that supply closet? 

“At least, not compared to this one,” Helen breathed looking up admiringly at the intricate mouldings on the celling, her eyes glancing at Nikola briefly before returning to Bethany.  
She was still maintaining their ruse, but he couldn’t help the feeling that her need to move closer wasn’t merely the ploy. Nor could he help the smirk.

“Well,” The receptionist replied with strained politeness. “Do you want me to see if I can assist you with your accommodation? I could make a few calls…”

Nikola intervened quickly, his attention focused on the young girl. “No, don’t worry yourself, Bethany, my room should be able to accommodate her for now, besides, I have missed her.” His eyes caught Helen’s, his sensitive ears noticing how her pulse quickened slightly, her bewilderment at his words subtly hidden under a demure smile.

“Well, I hope your luggage arrives soon.” Bethany replied with a tight smile, grabbed the key, and bid them a good evening.

“Thank you, Bethany, I hope so too.” Helen replied, as they turned away, still close to each other when they were out of Bethany’s view.

Normally Helen would have moved away, by now, Nikola mused, as he guided her down the hall, his arm still around her waist as they walked up the grand stairs to his room. The elevator was under maintenance.

The fact that she wasn’t distancing herself from him was….unexpected; pleasant but puzzling all the same.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” He stated, his tone soft. He didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“We survived, though I still don’t see why that charade was really necessary,” Helen sighed tiredly.

“Because, the Hotel isn’t known for being generous with letting people stay who aren’t on their guest list, much less stay with other guests who are.”

His eyes glimmered. She looked cute when she was frustrated. “You were marvellous, by the way.” Nikola whispered in her ear, his cheek brushing her hair.  
Helen looked up at him.

“The receptionist didn’t seem to share your opinion on that,” she replied wirily, her hand running along the polished wooden banister as they climbed to the third floor.

Nikola just smirked, stopping in front of room 36, slipping his arm from around her as he unlocked the door, with a soft click.

“After you,” he gestured for her to walk through.

“Are you always this chivalrous, or are you trying to impress me?” Helen countered, but her lips twitched, the curve just shy of a smile.

“No, for the first one, and as for the second: only if you found yourself impressed.” One hand perched on his hip.

She gave him a questioning glance, her eyes narrowing at the corners as if she was trying to place something. But then the look was gone, and she shook her head as she walked inside. Though clearly exasperated and exhausted by the entire evening, he could have sworn he saw her smile as he followed her inside.

So she was impressed, he mused, as he watched her step into his room. Her arms crossed, as her eyes flittered around the room, slightly apprehensively.

“So, where do, we go from here?” She enquired, brushing the hair back from her eyes.

“We will stay here, tonight, then we will go to the airport tomorrow, it should take, them at least a couple of days before they track us down.”

He gently slipped off his coat, draping it over a chair, and leaning against the kitchen bench, making sure the side where the dart had clipped him wasn’t facing her.

“My false trails will buy us some time, but only another day or two, so we can’t afford to waste any time here.”

She nodded, looking away.

“Nikola,” she started hesitantly. “Why are they after me?” Her voice was quiet.

Of course she wanted to get started with the hard questions.

“I think you should eat, first, before we discuss that,” he tried gently, evading the topic. “They serve a very nice onion soup,or so I have heard.”

“No, you promised me answers.” Her voice raised slightly. “These people don’t look like the type to kidnap and mind-wipe a doctor,” she continued, as she looked up at him pleadingly. “So tell me, who am I, really?”

Nikola sighed, he was such a push over when it came to her. It was ridiculous really. “Then we are going to need that bottle of merlot, because it is going to be a long night.”


	6. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while, but here it is hopefully the next chapter shouldn't take so long :) Anyway I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a comment, I love to here from you. :D

Glancing impassively around the room, Helen tried to let herself unwind. Perhaps to relieve some of the tension in which had been coiled inside her. Emphasis on tried.

She couldn’t seem to focus on anything, let alone relax. Her skin prickled as if someone was watching, her, even though she knew she was alone.

It was something that had surpassed the boarders of infuriating and was venturing into something far more potent.

Her mind was constantly on guard, eyes flittering between what she would have considered a charming little balcony, the main door, and the bloody ventilation system, which a small cat might have struggled to get through. Automatically, she found herself regarding them as either points of possible foreign entry or, in her case, escape. (Save for the ventilation system, even her overdeveloped sense of paranoia couldn’t convince her of that.)

Standing around idly did nothing but make her restless. “This is ridiculous.” she muttered, rubbing her temples. _If I am going to remain sane, I need to do something, anything then just stand here._

Pacing was ruled out immediately, as not only was it useless, but with her nervous energy, not to mention footwear, that activity was sure to put a hole in the carpet.

 _Not if I take them off_. A voice cut in and, Helen couldn’t find it within herself to argue. Bending down, she unbuckled the black straps from around both ankles. Then stepped out of them onto the soft carpet with sigh of relief.

Relishing the feeling, she picked up her shoes by the straps, placing them beside a pot plant near the wall. I am still not pacing, though, she thought firmly, almost sitting on the table as she leaned against it. She leafed through a Newspaper that rested near the glass fruit bowl, skimming over the articles briefly, scanning for anything useful, before setting it aside.

While it had nothing about recent kidnappings, or missing people, today’s date was at least no longer a mystery. So there was that. Helen mused ironically. Lightly tapping her fingers against the table’s smooth surface, finding some sense of comfort in its hollow, repetitive rhythm.

 _Hollow. Yes you know what that feels like don’t you?_ A voice whispered.

Within an instant, the motion stilled and she wrapped her arms around herself. Wondering when Nikola was coming back.

After declaring that merlot was essential for their discussion, and perhaps a Bordeaux for later, he had gone to retrieve them, despite her protests against its supposed necessity.

As, apparently, the vintages he wanted were not included in the wine selection list, for room service.

She gave an annoyed huff, recalling their earlier conversation.

_“I think one is more than adequate.” She had cut in hastily as he listed off a few more. He turned to her, expectantly. “I would rather that we remained sober so I can actually start to remember something of my life tomorrow.”_

_His lips twitched at that, whether in amusement or irritation, she couldn’t quite tell. “I am keeping the Bordeaux, at least.” “_

_One bottle.” She replied evenly, he pouted at her._

_“But one is such a lonely number and I had every intention of sharing.”_

_“How generous of you.” Helen rolled her eyes._

_“Glad you noticed,” he countered, not missing a beat “Now, I have had the 1974, but 1964 was better… Hmm I will have to delve into the barman’s cellars, myself, for that year, as the last time the scoundrel tried to pass off a Rosé for a Cabernet Sauvignon.” Nikola’s lip curled unfavourably._

_“Or, you can just stay here, leave the poor barman’s cellars alone, and give me answers like you promised,” Helen suggested, one hand on her hip._

_“True, but I also remember saying I would tell you your profession over a merlot. Just giving you answers…. Well, that would only be half the promise, now, wouldn’t it?” He grinned._

_He was a fiend, a com_ _plete and utter fiend._ _She gave him a pointed look._

_She wanted the answers so badly and waiting around, uselessly, was testing her already-strained patience. It was eating her up inside. Something she had a feeling he already knew, quite well…._

_“I won’t be long. Try not get into mischief, while I’m gone.” Nikola had given her a wink and a devilish smile, then slipped quietly from the room._

_“I could say the same for you.” She called out, as the door closed, though she could hear him chuckle._

_He left her both bewildered by his ability to so casually evade her question in his pursuit for a bottle of wine –no, make that two – and exasperated at his audacity, to do it so charmingly that she couldn’t stay mad at him._

Helen pushed those thoughts aside. Clasping her hands together and placing them on her lap, she let out a sigh.

As time passed, the hands on the mantle clock ticking by, she began to grow uneasy. _He should be back by now. Something is wrong. What if….? What if, nothing. He is fine, you’re just paranoid, so snap out of it, and stop worrying._

While the rational part of her agreed with this logic, her concern seemed to flow of its own accord, and it wasn’t just because of paranoia but rather felt like it was second nature.

From her brief experience with him, he seemed to be no stranger to trouble, he was either in it, or the reason for it, if their previous venture was anything to go by.

 _Whereas I seemed to have a knack for attracting trouble, in the first place,_ Helen mused, with more than a touch of sarcasm. Still, with all of her reassurances, the door remained closed.

The synchronic tick of the ornate mantle clock was grating, to say the least. But, to her credit, she didn’t give in to silencing it, by throwing it out the window.

 _I have had enough of windows, as it is_. One hand on her hip, she felt the hard, solid weight of the gun and almost giggled out loud, they shouldn’t have let me up as it was, let alone armed. Her finger touched the end of it briefly. She had almost forgotten it was there.

Despite the danger, It was surprising how…. natural it felt to carry one. Almost too natural. Helen let her hand fall to her side.

Nikola certainly had some explaining to do, because as far as she was concerned, doctors if she indeed was one, didn’t find carrying a gun natural, or almost crushing a man’s windpipe with a chain, a mere reflex.

There was something more, he wasn’t telling her, many things more she suspected…. What could be taking him so long? Helen wondered, glancing at the door for the umpteenth time.

Is he that fastidious on wine selection, or was he delayed by some other reason?

An impulsive part of her entertained the idea of hunting him down, surely it wouldn’t be hard to find the bar as she assumed that was where he was obtaining the merlot from.

However; she quickly dismissed the notion. Not just because it was silly (He was fine, she was just being unreasonable), but because she really didn’t want to cross paths with the receptionist anytime soon. It seemed Bethany hadn’t liked her all that much. And it wasn’t just the disapproving eye she cast at her, ruffled appearance, or the fact that Helen really shouldn’t have been allowed to stay, which gave her that impression.

 _Perhaps she would have been friendlier if we had pretended I was his cousin,_ Helen thought dryly. She may not remember her life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have eyes.

All Nikola had done was smile and the young blonde practically gushed like a school girl, over a cute teacher. Then she saw Helen beside him and it was as if that school girl found out the cute teacher actually had a thing for brunettes and was married.

 _Charming. If I have made another enemy, today, I am blaming him!_ She still maintained that they could have passed off as relatives, albeit distant ones, but it could have worked.

 _Yes, however,_ a voice whispered, _cousins generally don’t enter a hotel with fingers interlaced, shoulders brushing against each other as they walk_ …. _**Fine**_ , she grumbled.

Perhaps the enraptured lovers they had pretended to be was better suited. Something he had more than likely planned from the start.

She narrowed her eyes, tracing a circular shaped pattern on the wood.

Though Helen had to admit, it had been kind of, well… fun... in an annoying, exasperating sort of way.

The ruse seemed so easy with him, as if they had done this a thousand times before.

The story fell from her lips without hesitation, and he adapted to it seamlessly. For instance, when she momentarily lost all sense of balance and dignity and fell against his chest.

Not her finest moment… But, in truth, the receptionist’s question had caught her off guard.

It had summoned reminders of that damn facility… _the overwhelming darkness, the handcuffs cutting into her wrists_ …. _the fear_. It had flooded her mind with the cold precision of a surgeon’s blade. She shivered at the memory.

Nikola however had made her stumble look as if he had deviously drawn her towards him. His arm, around her waist, tightened securely, their sides pressed against each other.

Despite her common sense, it wasn’t an unpleasant position. Infact she almost found it rather comfortable, being that close to him.

Though, when the only other people she had encountered, thus far, were either trying to sedate, shoot, apprehend, or, in the case of the receptionist, vaporise her with their eyes, it was hardly surprising she drew comfort from him in her moment of weakness, she reasoned, picking at the loose thread on her sleeve.

Alright fine, she may have played up the drawing-closer-to-him a little bit more then was strictly necessary in their ruse, towards the end.

But, in her defence, he was warm and smelt nice…..

 _And I am going to stop there_ , Helen thought dryly. _As I would like to keep the remainders of my dignity intact and preserve whatever is left of my sanity_.

Honestly, she just hoped there wasn’t any more jealous fangirls she had to contend with. One shadowy agency was enough, she certainly didn’t need more Bethanie’s asking questions whilst simultaneously plotting her demise in the process.

Helen turned her attention away from that and further inspected the room. Perhaps she might learn something more about her mysterious companion, other than his lavish tastes.

Besides, it gave her something constructive to do, that didn’t include worrying about whether he was making something explode, being captured, or both.

 _Mr Finn_. The one part of their conversation with the receptionist that actually had given her a clue, about him. Nikola Finn.

The name sounded as real as any on Helen’s tongue. But something about the surname, didn’t…. fit, for some reason. It lacked the flair she pictured, for someone so… flamboyant.

When she said his name, while she didn’t remember him exactly, she felt something, like pressure, teasing at the base of her skull.

But when Bethany had called him Mr Finn, it felt cold and detached, like most other things at the moment.

Helen sighed, running her fingers through her brown hair, combing out small bits of plaster, in which still had remained. A hot shower would have been more than lovely at this point, but she resisted the temptation. One; because, she didn’t feel comfortable taking those sort of liberties, without asking him first - it wasn’t her room, after all. And two…. (Which perhaps was the main reason), Helen bit her lip. She didn’t exactly have a spare set of clothes, on hand, to change into that weren’t… she looked down at her jacket and pants, covered in bits of plaster and grime.

Her brow furrowed, _hmm this will present complications._

However, she would worry about that later. Her attention drew into the rich splendour’s the room had to offer, and she was thankful for the distraction it provided. Drawn curtains were a deep royal blue that accentuated the French-polished wooden furniture, adorned with beautiful carvings.

The kitchen, however, was more contemporary, with the essential appliances. And by _‘essential’_ , she instantly thought of the kettle. For some inexplicable reason she felt a craving for a warm beverage of some kind. There was untouched coffee satchels in a small basket on the kitchen bench.

Helen eyed the coffee satchels, but the idea didn’t seem as appealing, all of a sudden, as it was a minute ago.

She shrugged and continued her inspection. It was a combination of modern convenience and old-world beauty.

Everything was pristine, its delicate elegance made it classic, not gaudy or overdone. The double French doors in which she suspected led to the bedroom, was the only place she hadn’t checked.

Nor was she going to.

Helen wandered back near the kitchen, then stopped, her eyes caught by a small wooden coffee table near the crème coloured couch. Perched near the edge was a single empty wineglass, the bottom stained with the dregs of a rich Red, by the looks of it.

He obviously really liked his wine, though that much she had already gathered.

Helen picked up the glass from the coffee table, and twirled the stem in her hands as if she could unravel his secrets.

The fragrance of the wine hung like an aromatic shadow, within the glass. Its robust scent filled her nose; it was opulent, smooth with a slightly spicy undertone.

She found she was quite partial to it. In fact, it smelt… familiar, in a way.

Her finger lazily traced along its curved side, were a thin bead of wine dripped down the inside of the glass, the dark crimson, glinting in the light. Preparing to place it back down, she noticed the dark, circular ring-mark, left on the polished wood, which happened to be next to an obviously unused set of engraved metal coasters.

 _I suppose he thought they were for decoration?_ Rolling her eyes, she picked one of them from the stack, its smooth surface cool against her palm, and then placed it down on the table, with the wineglass on top of it.

Aside from being a bit careless, when it came to the furniture, she found no more hints to his character, then before. It seemed Nikola was not a man to leave anything just lying around. But she had a feeling it wasn’t just a matter of him being tidy or reserved.

Someone who could break into and out of dangerous facilities, the way he had, did not survive by being careless with personal information. In fact it seemed danger clung to him like his fitted suit.  

Jumping from ledge to ledge by yourself was one thing, but with someone else as well… it was twenty metres for god sake! Not to mention the guards shooting at them at the time.

She didn’t know how they didn’t get shot, during that?

How was it physically possible?

Since she had met him, her list of questions had tripled.

Nikola obviously held secrets, she just wondered how many, and if it would cost them both.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Helen spun around, drawing her gun in one seamless movement, her finger wrapped firmly around the trigger.

“You know… I really hoped we had gotten past this.” Nikola replied, bottles in hand, glancing at the gun before returning to her.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the visual spectacle.” His eyes gleamed, tracing over her and the gun with unabashed reverence.

“Dear god, please…. don’t do that!” Helen exclaimed, lowering the weapon, shakily. “I could have…” She paused, taking in a breath to calm herself “I could have shot you!” Her voice came out as a low whisper, as she didn’t want the other residents to hear, but it did not belie the severity of her tone.

“It’s not the first time and, well, as much as I would like to say otherwise, I doubt it will be the last.” He circled around her, placing the bottles on the bench before grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

That certainly explained why he hadn’t looked surprised when she had pointed a gun at him, in the supply closet. She had shot him before. Multiple times, it seemed.

“May I ask why?” Helen swallowed thickly. Not for the first time, she revaluated her decision to trust him. The way she saw it, people only fired a gun on impulse, or with intention. From her quick draw, it seemed like impulse, but from what he was saying it sounded very much like the latter.

“You would say ‘occupational hazard’. I would say ‘you need to find a less destructive hobby’, although occasionally, I’ll admit, at times I deserved it.” He smirked, as he opened the bottle letting it breathe.

“Well that clarifies a few things…” She eyed him warily, as she came closer to the table, the gun, while not drawn, was still in her hand.

“No doubt.” Nikola murmured quietly, as he came around with two wine glasses, balanced carefully in one hand, and the merlot in the other.

“I am not a saint nor do I pretend to be anything of the sort. But, regardless of what you think, I won’t harm you, Helen.”

He sighed when she continued to eye him, sceptically, her hand still holding her gun, despite her reluctance to shoot it.

“Think of it this way; I wouldn’t be hiding you away at my expense, if that were the case.”

“Fair point.” Helen admitted, seating herself on the chair as he placed a glass in front of her, half filled with red wine, the merlot she guessed and sat opposite, as if sensing her distrust.

She was almost glad for the distance. There was something almost dangerous in the way he moved, like a panther, sleek and graceful, but a predator, none the less.

He then lounged on his chair, wine glass in hand, his eyes intently set on hers.

“So… let’s begin, shall we?”


End file.
